Meltykiss
by Sekana Katayama
Summary: Duke/Ryou. Everyone notices Duke Devlin, and Ryou Bakura might as well not exist... until the noticed starts to do the noticing. Beware of angst.
1. Chapter 1

Inspired by true events! Hehehe…

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**Meltykiss**

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Ryou Bakura might as well have been a ghost for all the attention he received walking down the school hallways. An occasional wave from Yugi's friends were the only indications he existed in this world of flashy cell-phones, constant chatter, and general drama. High school was one thing Ryou did not appreciate in the least. It was always loud here, full of problem students and giggling girls and busy-work. The only relief was that the usual taunting had long ceased, worn away by his own apathy and lack of reaction to the other students' immature prodding.

No, there was no longer any remnant of bullying in his school life. Instead, his ghostlike form transcended all social laws, untouched by criticism of his long, white hair, his meek nature, or his lack of interest in virtually everything popularized at his school, including girls.

He didn't even bother to sigh as he entered the classroom for his last class of the day. It was English, which hardly mattered because they rarely did any real work. Grammar study did not count as real work, despite the difficulty his fellow students – or monkeys, seeing as few of them put much effort into being qualified students – had with placing commas effectively.

Class went by like the slow drip of molasses from the end of an impatient spoon. Questions, answers, pointless questions, too-patient answers… it was mind-numbing. He flipped through his binder to a more-or-less hidden section where he placed his daily observations, and took out yesterday's notes.

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**Yuka**

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Female; Brown and blonde-streaked hair, dyed; twirls her hair around her index finger when bored; Leans forward and smiles at Kosuke to get his attention, shirt unbuttoned partially so her cleavage is visible; This move super-effective on Kosuke; According to other classmates' talk, she has a boyfriend already; Does not do her in-class worksheet, instead copies off Kosuke, who has half the answers wrong judging by his lack of attention;

Overall conclusion: typical hormone-crazed girl

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Yes, yesterday's subject was ridiculously transparent. Today he was hoping something more interesting would happen – as if anything ever did in English class. He had already evaluated half the students in the class, and so far none of them had passed his personal examinations. Yugi and his friends were not in English with him, so he did not have to wonder about how he would have judged them. No, the only figure of even slight familiarity was… Duke Devlin. And a long-shot it was to call him familiar, for he blended in quite well with the others despite his long, black ponytail and penchant for wearing that odd dice earring.

But of course, Ryou wasn't going to judge him just yet. No, he was saving the only possible gem for last, giving Devlin the benefit of the doubt as he struck down – metaphorically – the other, average students one-by-one, slowly picking away at the class until he was left with no one but Devlin himself to study. Not that he expected much from the guy who created Dungeon Dice Monsters. I mean, really, _Dungeon Dice Monsters_. It almost made Duel Monsters look interesting again.

He glanced inconspicuously towards the desk in the middle of the classroom – the middle of the third column and the middle of the third row, right in the center of the action – Duke Devlin's desk. It was very easy to be inconspicuous when no one paid you any attention… and this was how Ryou got away with studying his classmates.

Today he was feeling especially put-out over the general dreariness of this prison – er, school – and he needed something to keep his mind off all of it. Prison, then home, and home meant loneliness and trying to figure out something to drown the silence. The exact opposite of school, as it happened.

What he needed was a distraction… What if he just skipped the rest of the students for now, and went straight to studying Devlin? He could always catch up later. Besides, it wasn't good to get his hopes up that such a popular guy would be any better than the rest of the lot, and that was certainly what he was doing by delaying observing him, like he was some sort of dessert.

He took out a loose piece of paper and began to surreptitiously observe the raven-haired heartthrob, taking notes occasionally whenever he noticed anything significant.

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**Duke Devlin**

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Male; Long, black hair and ponytail, bright green eyes, wears dark eyeliner, dice earring; Smirks when girl says something to him, girl seems to have fainted; Second girl giggles and tries to whisper something to him, but blushes and turns away when he flicks stray strands of his ponytail over his shoulder; Does not seem to have worksheet on desk, but teacher has not noticed or does not care; Most likely takes answers from brainiest girl he can seduce; Unsure of said girl's identity, as there are none in this class thus far;

Overall conclusion: typical hormone-crazed guy

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Ryou banished the disappointment and tucked the paper back into its secret spot in his binder. It had been foolish to think that someone like Devlin would have been anything besides what he appeared to be. For most students here, there really _wasn't_ more than met the eye. But still… he had been hoping, just a little, that there would be something strange, something different, about the guy who invented Dungeon Dice Monsters. I mean, really, _Dungeon Dice Monsters_.

The bell rang sometime later, much later, after he had given up on Devlin being more interesting than the other students. He shouldered his backpack and went to drop off his completed – and correct – worksheet into the box. As he slid the paper onto the top of the stack, he glimpsed a name, and blinked, pushing his out of the way to see what he had half-thought he had seen.

It was Devlin's paper, already handed in. Messily written, sure, but the answers looked correct. Was it possible…? Had Devlin somehow handed it in before Ryou himself had finished? For that was the only way he wouldn't have seen him leave his seat, being absorbed in his work. He shook his head gently to clear it of idle speculation and pretended he hadn't seen the worksheet.

He left the classroom, with that usual feeling of glumness at the thought of going home, alone. Making dinner, alone. Eating dinner, alone. Reading and studying despite the pointlessness of it all. He was already doing just fine in his classes, regardless of extra effort.

He saw Duke leaning against a locker, talking to a few girls who, judging by their glowing faces, were more of his fans. The school-dubbed 'prince of cool' smirked and watched them melt in place before walking past them and down the hall. He made even walking look sexy, if that was at all possible. At least, that was what one of the girls said as Ryou passed them, still idly watching Duke.

He averted his eyes as he walked by so that the other would have no hint that he was being watched, but he felt an odd, prickly feeling as he did so, as if it was _he _who was being observed. The feeling didn't pass when he had passed Duke, but he continued to pretend he hadn't noticed it, gradually – by his calculations, not by looking back conspicuously over his shoulder – moving farther and farther ahead of his recent subject.

"Hey."

Ryou nearly jumped, but caught himself in time with the realization that Duke was talking to someone else. Not him, of course. No one talked to him very much anymore, after all.

"Hey, you."

No, still couldn't be him. He kept walking, though his heart started to beat faster, and he felt that old fear creep back into him. Was he… being called out?

A hand caught his shoulder firmly and yanked him none-too-gently to face his pursuer, whose face he already knew from his recent staring. Duke Devlin. What could he _possibly _want?

"Hey, I couldn't help noticing that you aren't staring at me like I'm sort of sex object."

Green eyes pierced his confidently, that look on his face that said it all – 'women want me, and men want to be me… or just want me.' Familiar upwards quirk of his lips, that wicked smile that ensnared so many, so easily.

Ryou blinked as he absorbed the words belatedly. A sex object? Duke? What? "U-um, I wasn't staring at you…?"

"Exactly." Intense green eyes narrowed, zeroed in on Ryou's timid demeanor and withdrawn appearance. The hand left his shoulder and he realized he needed to get away – fight or flight reflex activated.

"R-right, okay." Ryou stuttered, and managed to walk away only a little faster than usual, chanting mentally for Duke not to say anything else to him.

It worked, and he arrived home a while later tired as usual, but safe. Relieved, and safe.

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**Duke Devlin**

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Overall conclusion: Dangerous.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

Wordless trepidation filled Ryou as he walked into English class the next day. He couldn't put a label on it, but he knew there was something frightening about to happen, though the classroom looked the same as usual and the students were acting like wild monkeys again. Dread seeped into him steadily as he sat down and blankly took out his notebook and secret journal.

His eyes slid to Devlin's desk before he could stop them, and drifted, restrained, from dice earring to ponytail to headband… and finally to face. He was being watched. For a second of surprise their eyes locked, Duke's bright green, unfazed, to his own wide brown. And then Ryou tore his gaze away and steadied himself with a deep breath as he tried to calm his panicking heart.

Duke was… watching him? It couldn't have been a coincidence that their eyes met when he looked over there. Something was definitely going on, and he knew it couldn't be anything good. But why did Devlin have something against him? What could he have possibly done…?

If what Duke had said yesterday hinted at the reason, perhaps he was annoyed that there was one person in the class who wasn't enamored with him. After all, the girls hung on his every word, and the guys took notes and generally absorbed everything move he made in order to make it into a girl's good graces. Maybe the celebrity had noticed he was lacking a fan in Ryou Bakura. Maybe Duke was one of those types who wanted everything, and couldn't stand seeing any flaw in his life, even if said flaw was a nearly-invisible student who no one knew existed.

If that was true, he wasn't sure what to do. If Duke needed his mindless adoration, the type he received daily from all the other members of the class, Ryou couldn't exactly fake it. Nor could he refuse, knowing that Duke had strings to pull and connections to utilize to do whatever necessary to – but wait… wasn't he overthinking this?

Was this truly as important as he assumed it was? What if Duke had simply been teasing him yesterday – a bit of the bullying he had experienced the last year before the bullies lost interest – and had thought nothing of it? What if their eyes had met by pure coincidence, and there was no reason for his panic…?

"Hey."

No. No, it couldn't be – it was. Duke Devlin was standing right beside his desk. Vaguely he recalled that class hadn't started yet, and the teacher was not going to tell him to get back to his own desk. No, Duke Devlin had every right to be standing beside his desk, saying something as mundane as 'hey' to him.

Ryou chose not to respond, familiar pattern setting in, the one that always turned away even the most persistent bullies – simple obliviousness. He pretended that class was about to begin like usual as he took out a fresh sheet of notebook paper for today's subject. He glanced around the classroom, eyes skipping over Duke's form as if he was looking straight through him, eyes locating the teacher who had just begun speaking.

"Why aren't you looking at me?"

Ryou rose from his seat, pencil in hand, and brushed past Duke in an unintentionally rough way on his path to the pencil-sharpener. He hadn't meant to seem like he was taunting – no, not at all! But he hadn't reckoned on having to walk past Duke instead of, well, through him. Now he had probably infuriated him… fear set in again at the thought that he had just made an enemy, one who wouldn't rest until he'd gotten revenge.

… Surely he was overthinking again. When he turned to head back to his desk, there sat Duke at his own center desk, like on any other day. Fangirls still worshipping him, fanboys lapping up his every word and scrawling down phrases on their notepads. It was vaguely annoying how they all thought of him as some sort of celebrity.

He caught the turn of Duke's head in time to look away, but judging by the odd sensation of a blatant stare directed at him, the raven-headed heartthrob had once again caught him looking. This was getting more dangerous by the minute, if he was going to believe his instincts, which told him that disappearing off the face of the earth for a while would be a good idea right about now.

English was over soon enough. But Ryou's sweaty palms told him, as he wiped them nervously on his pants, that the danger was not past by any means. He stuffed his notebook into his pack and slung it over his shoulder more hurriedly than he should have. He was giving his feelings away if Duke was watching, though he knew that showing fear was the worst move to make in situations like these. He ignored the warnings and strode out the door, moving as quickly as possible down the hallways as if he had somewhere important to be.

He took a shortcut down a different hallway than usual, thinking to make better time and also remove himself from line of sight. He knew the school well enough, being a Junior now, so he knew he couldn't get lost no matter which path he took to get out of the school. And he also knew that no one really used this hallway all that much, being that it was the counselor area, and they were rarely around after school.

He hadn't reckoned on there being someone else by the stairs at the end of the hall. And he certainly hadn't reckoned on that person being Duke Devlin. Waiting for him, of all people, with a predatory gleam in his vibrant green eyes, leaning against the white-washed walls.

"Hey." The familiar greeting washed over him as the half-panicked, half-awed feeling spread throughout his body, half the same reaction as everyone else had.

Ryou meant to turn, to walk the other way back down the hall, to get to somewhere with more people, but he knew he would be overreacting if he did so. And even if he wasn't, he seemed to be rooted in place, and his legs were no good for anything except holding him upright at the moment. He would have gladly run away but for that something keeping him there, motionless.

He still couldn't move as Duke straightened up and came towards him, ponytail swaying hypnotically as he came closer, eyes filled with something mischievous and very, very bad for Ryou. He'd seen this look before, right before he had been jumped last year, and the year before that, and at various other dangerous times. Yes, that was what Duke Devlin appeared to be right now, as he confidently stepped into Ryou's personal space – dangerous.

No words. Black-lined eyes narrowed slightly, calculating, intensity swirling in green depths. Ryou was slightly short on breath at the realization of just how close they were. He wanted to run but he couldn't, not with _him _standing right there in front of him, sizing him up like he was some sort of delicious cake.

The predator took another step closer, inexplicable proximity startling his prey, who managed to take a faltering step back. Another step, another step back. Ryou felt instinctively that this was a faulty strategy but he was unable to think straight, to consider exactly what his position was.

Duke smirked as he took another step towards the helpless victim, sensing his near-victory. Ryou hesitated but backed up for lack of a better option… and stopped. His back had met the wall, and there was no room to back up farther. Panic set in.

"W-what do you want?" Ryou demanded, fear creeping into his voice and rendering it small and insignificant.

No answer as Duke cornered him, hands to either side of his head on the pale wall. He leaned in, face larger and larger in Ryou's vision as he struggled to say something, anything, but failed with their closeness and then everything slowed as warm lips found his. His eyes shut tightly, thoughtlessly, as he was assaulted by the mouth moving against his own, purposefully slow and lingering, causing his face to burn with a sensation he barely perceived, overpowered by the more pressing feeling of Duke Devlin – no, this was impossible! – kissing him thoroughly.

He abruptly lost his breath as Duke leaned in farther and crushed their lips together, stifling any protest that might have been made in the short pause for air, and he felt himself pressed harshly against the wall as he was held there by an iron grip and the unspoken threat. He was torn from thoughts of imprisonment as Duke pulled away only slightly to take his lower lip between his two, running a moist tongue along it and making Ryou let loose an odd, surprised sound before a tongue snaked into his mouth, and worldly sensations ceased in favor of the velvet tongue sliding against his.

Suddenly he wanted this. He wanted it so badly that it didn't even matter any longer what was happening, or why. He knew it was a trap. He knew the delicious cake that was Duke Devlin was a lie. But at the moment he could not have cared less.

He melted predictably in Duke's practiced ministrations, cheeks permanently stained pink like a doll's, trembling form reinforcing the likeness. Bliss overwhelmed him like he had been dropped into an ocean, now floating, bewildered, losing breath until he was about to pass out, but too absorbed in the beauty of the underwater world to care.

Duke pulled away and watched him take labored breaths, panting like he had surfaced after minutes beneath the sea, and just as awe-struck.

"Looks like my job here is done." And Duke gave him a wink and went past him, swaggering walk more effective than ever.

Ryou watched until the figure disappeared around a corner, and then he sank to the floor. Defeated. Thoroughly and completely defeated. Used, thrown away, forgotten. This was his reward for playing the fool, and the worst sting was his knowledge that he would gladly do it again.

'Dangerous' was sheer understatement.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three**

Though he had entered yesterday's English class full of anxious thoughts and unclear suspicions, walking into the room today was beyond comparison. Ryou's mind turned from fear of a vaguely-defined threat to acknowledgment that he had already taken the worst, but somehow that realization troubled him more deeply than ever. For though he had braved the blizzard – so to speak – and found shelter briefly in a pleasant cave, the storm had ceased, leaving him with only emptiness and a lack of direction.

The trouble had passed, but it was not past. No, he could recall every second of it, the closeness he had experienced, every nuance and sensation of the encounter. If possible, it was almost as real to reimagine it, to play out yesterday's events on the screen of his mind. And he found himself doing this frequently, regretfully unaware of the words of teachers and the odd student alike, submerged in his own little fantasy world. But his obliviousness was hardly noticed; indeed, _he _was hardly noticed, as usual.

For some reason, not being noticed hurt more than usual. Or perhaps it had to do with the fact that Duke Devlin was one of those ignoring him like usual. It was as if nothing had happened the day before, as if the most popular guy in the school had not cornered him in a back hallway and kissed him until he nearly suffocated.

It was as if he had imagined it all, like he had fallen asleep in the hallway and suffered a hallucinatory dream of such vividness that he had believed it to be reality. But it couldn't have been a creation of his mind… no, after he had regained his composure the day before he had walked home as calmly as possible, with one constant reminder of Duke's presence – he could still taste him, the latent, foreign taste in his mouth.

Despite his certainty he could sense nothing different in Duke's flirtations with Kyomi and Rina and Yuka, and indeed any number of other girls. There was no sign of conflict as deep green eyes flitted from one fan to the next, smug and haughty as always, high on popularity and blindly worshipped. No, there was nothing different in Duke Devlin.

Ryou paid no attention to the assignment they were working on, and instead spent his time chewing absently on his pencil eraser, nibbling the end to give his mouth something to focus on besides their secondary use as revealed the day before. He was not studying a fellow pupil – or monkey – today, no indeed. He had surrendered for now, and though he was sitting at his desk he might have been lost in a labyrinth of moving hedges, completely at a loss to explain how he had got there and how he would escape.

He had been given a taste of temptation's honey, a taste that haunted him now with the guilt that he had been taken advantage of and hadn't minded in the least.

"Class is over. You may talk _quietly_ amongst yourselves until the bell rings." The teacher emphasized 'quietly,' but before she had ended the sentence loud laughter erupted from one of the center tables, and she shot the class a withering glance before retreating to her garrison – teacher's desk – to wait out the siege until the enemy students were called back to their kingdoms and away from hers.

Ryou had no need to talk quietly. He had no need to talk at all. A growing, painful uneasiness in his stomach urged him to ask Duke what his purpose had been, but he knew already that he would not like the answer. It was better this way, with his vague conclusions of elaborate reasoning and intricate plans satisfying him more than a straight-out answer of less kindness to his already-bruising heart.

The bell rang, and he did the equivalent of bolting from the room, but in as normal a fashion as possible.

"Bakura! Ryou Bakura!" It was the teacher's voice, and he was forced to return to the room by her demand.

"Yes?" He asked, as politely as possible, shifting uneasily when he had come to stand before her desk. The other students trickled out the door as he faced an unknown dilemma.

"Your worksheet is still on your desk. Did you finish it?" She appeared confused, or at least moderately bored, at the observation made aloud.

"No… I'm sorry." Ryou felt a pang of dread, wondering if this particular English teacher had it in her to lecture him on the importance of a work ethic. "May I turn it in tomorrow?"

"It will be late, but that was your choice when you chose not to work on it." Those pursed lips meant the teacher was not happy, and Ryou looked away in momentary shame.

"A-all right." Ryou excused himself and picked up the blank worksheet, noticing with deep guilt that he had, indeed, declined to do any part of the in-class assignment.

He left the classroom once again, folding the paper and stuffing it into the pocket of his pants. Would he do the worksheet? If he could give his mind a rest from solving the puzzle that was Duke Devlin, there would be no problem. But he doubted he could come up with the true explanation by himself.

A sigh as he walked down the hallway, surrounded by unfamiliar faces, students from all grades and walks of life. Many of them could be facing much the same situation he was. At least he had the maturity to know that Duke had not simply did what he had done on a whim – there was a reason, a very logical reason, behind it.

He stopped at his locker for a moment, recalling that he had left his jacket inside it. As his fingers deftly spun the combination lock to the correct passcode, he heard a group of giggling girls stop nearby, a couple of lockers over. They were exceedingly loud, so he was unable to ignore them as they burst out into fresh waves of laughter. He didn't have to struggle to hear just what they were laughing about.

"… And he was all like, Devlin, dude, you can get _anyone_!"

"Ahaha… that's so true! Hehe."

"I _know_, isn't it!? So what happened?"

"Well, I – hehehe – overheard that..."

"What? Come on!"

"Sorry, it's just s-so _funny_, ahahahaha… I can't stop laughing!"

Ryou took out his jacket and set down his backpack to put it on, trying his best to ignore his loud neighbors as he straightened it out.

"… NO. No WAY!"

"YEAH, I know, it's so great!"

"That's disgusting! Ahaha… I would've loved to see the look on his face-"

"They really dared him to kiss _that guy_-"

"SHHHHH! Hehehe… he's like, right there!"

"Oh my god, be quiet! What if he heard us?"

Ryou's world crashed to the ground, and he blinked at the dull, grey metal of his locker, the blankness reflected in his eyes. These girls had no idea what they talking about, surely, but… No, what was he saying? There couldn't be any mistake. Duke Devlin had been dared to kiss him, and kiss him he'd certainly did.

"Hey, darlings. What do you say we go to my Lovenasium?" No, not that voice, anything but that… "I might even let you play with my dice."

So seductive, dirtying even the purest, most commonplace words. 'Darling' became a synonym for 'bitch,' and 'playing with dice' suddenly sounded like an action more easily associated with sex than with any sort of gaming Ryou had heard of. But the debauchery worked, and the girls sounded overjoyed at the prospect of becoming slaves to Devlin's will – they probably had no idea what they were doing, as girls tended not to think these things through in the first place.

Devlin played his cards – or his dice – in a manner that most suited him, disregarding both his opponent and his acquisitions with the same cold smirk he always wore when persuading another fan to his opinions.

"Let get outta here, then!" Duke laughed, the most unnervingly perfect sound Ryou could recall, and brushed past him trailed by his new fans.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four**

Every cloud has a silver lining. Some good comes out of everything. That was what Yugi and his friends would say, if they even paid attention to him anymore. Joey would offer to beat up 'dice-boy,' eager for a chance to get back at the man who had once put him in a dog suit. Téa would probably give him a full friendship speech about how he shouldn't even think about Duke any longer, because a true friend wouldn't do things like that, and he should just be happy with his real friends.

The problem was that he didn't have any real friends. They had drifted away from him as of late, a mutual disconnection that had as much to do with Yugi's continuing 'popularity' – a word used loosely here – as a duelist as with Ryou's insecurities and inability to trust anyone. Yugi was getting more and more notice as the King of Card Games, for some reason Ryou really didn't understand. And in turn, Ryou found himself sinking farther into the background, becoming a permanent part of the wallpaper. Like with any set of scales, one side rose as the other fell.

He wasn't concluding that his invisibility had anything to do with Yugi's success, but the fact that his group had become so immersed in all things to do with Duel Monsters made it inevitable that a casual duelist like himself wouldn't be able to keep up. He had surrendered, realizing he would never have a passion for the children's card game, unlike his ever-enthusiastic friends. So, in a way, he could have justifiably blamed Duel Monsters for his lack of friends. But he didn't, because how pathetic would that make him…?

He had collapsed onto his bed after returning home that day, the recent knowledge of Duke's true motive clinging to him like some malicious parasite, draining his energy and rendering him apathetic to life. He realized that a prank like that shouldn't have affected him so much, but he couldn't help his feelings. After so long without water, he had been given a canteen, gulped down the life-giving liquid, only to be told a moment later that it had been the last water he would ever have the fortune to see. It was as if someone had flat-out told him, "Hey Ryou, guess what? That was all a big mistake. You probably should have seen it coming; after all, no one ever liked you very much! Sorry about the mix-up."

And now he was left alone, lying on his bland, sky-blue bedspread, ready to give up all hope. He was a fool for ever having thought anything would come of that encounter, those precious few minutes of accidental bliss. No, Ryou Bakura would never be loved – it was simply his _destiny_. It was Yugi's destiny to be the King of Games. It was Téa's destiny to be Yugi's personal cheerleader. It was Joey's destiny to be Yugi's token side-kick and best friend. It was Tristan's destiny to be a minor character with weird hair.

Ryou sighed and buried his head in his pillow, unable even to appreciate the slight humor that had sneaked into his thoughts. Nothing was funny when he had nothing to look forward to. He lived by himself. He had no one but himself to talk to when times got rough, as they had now. No, it was just Ryou Bakura, alone with his thoughts.

His stomach rumbled, a begrudging necessity recalled to him. Food. That's right, he needed to eat. But he didn't feel like leaving the safe haven of bed, nor was he particularly in the mood to appreciate dinner in general, nevermind the frozen meal he was probably going to microwave. He ignored his body's hungry protests as he lay there, closing his eyes to the calming world of the void.

* * *

7:32 AM. That was what the clock read when he glanced over drowsily, stirring from a deep, deep sleep. His reaction was delayed by weariness for a few seconds before reality set in.

School began at 7:30 AM. He was not at school. Right at this moment, he was being marked absent from his first class. And he had not eaten breakfast, done his homework from the day before, brushed his hair, his teeth, or even put his school-clothes on – wait, no, he had slept in them. At least that was taken care of.

The next five minutes were a whirl of chaotic movement as he located his backpack, hauled it out to the front door, managed to brush his hair and teeth at nearly the same time, and then rushed back to the front door to tie his shoes. After all that, it was only a matter of actually getting to school.

* * *

Lunch-time was homework time. He hadn't done anything the day before, after all, and despite the futility of everything, he still couldn't let his grades slip. At least, that was the excuse he forged for himself, far too afraid to admit the real reason he was skipping lunch to study in the library – he had nothing better to do than study. For if he neglected his classes, there truly would be nothing left for him.

Thus, his English homework, his late worksheet, and the homework from other classes was finished during the lunch period, and when the bell rang he was prepared for his last class of the day: English. The only problem, which he encountered as soon as he entered the classroom, was that he truly was _not _prepared.

All heads turned as he walked in, and he paused, halted like a deer caught in the eyes of so many wolves. Sudden fear froze him, and he felt like bolting from the room at the abrupt attention of the other students. He mentally pleaded for them to look away, but though they occasionally glanced back at their friends to whisper things and laugh, their gazes were locked on him like he was some sort of target.

He forced his legs to move, and they took him, by habit, to his desk. He sat down, took out his notebook and his supplies, and set out his completed worksheet and his pathetic excuse for a persuasive essay. He focused his eyes on his work, pretending to read it once more as if he needed to check for punctuation errors. As if his persuasive essay had a hope in hell of persuading anyone over the age of five.

He was starting to sound more like his shadowy self, the long-since released Yami Bakura, who was now somewhere in Egypt, probably plotting the world's destruction. Ryou wished him good luck with that, since his situation wasn't looking all that amazing lately, and he wasn't exactly brimming with zest for life. First invisible, now suicidal? It was always the quiet ones, they said…

Still engrossed in his feigned correction of his essay, Ryou began to sweat under the watch of most of the class, but he was too scared to wipe his palms on his pants, because they would see and know his fear. Whispers and not-quite-whispers were passed around within his hearing, and though he did his best to block out all sound he was caught by one of the voices.

"Ha! He didn't even put up a fight." Not quiet enough to be a whisper, but just quiet enough not to be too conspicuous among the sea of chatting students. Ryou knew whose voice it was, of course. It was Duke Devlin's voice, haughty and completely self-centered in his usual manner, throwing out words that pinned Ryou down like javelins. He felt trapped by those words, helpless in the face of the truth that he had walked into a trap, and the worst part was that everyone knew. And everyone thought it was the most hilarious thing that had ever happened.

Wasn't it just?


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter Five**

Ryou closed the front door behind him, and was suddenly entirely grateful that he lived alone. No one was there to see his ghost-white face, his probably panicked expression, his shaking form. And no one was there to see his eyes fill with tears as his vision blurred and he locked the door. He let the tears run freely down his face, wet tracks down his cheeks, like rivers running through parched land.

He had been holding this in all day, from the moment he woke late and knew he would have to bear another day at school with _that guy_. And then, English class…!

Another wave of tears broke upon his face as he stumbled, half-blind with stinging eyes, towards his bedroom. The comfort of his bed was the only reason – he could have cried anywhere, after all – because he needed something to stifle his sobs in. His pillow did the trick, and he nearly suffocated himself trying to mask the sounds of his sorrow, those pathetic little noises and gasps for air so similar, in a twisted way, to the ones he had made on that day, when it had been lips, and not a pillow, that took his breath away.

The recollection sent him into fresh sobs that wracked his thin body like a shaken doll. He submitted to his flood of emotions and abandoned himself to the torture of unchained crying, letting it all take its course and wear out his strained body to the point of exhaustion. After an indefinable time, the sobs became less frequent, the tears dried up, and the shaking subsided. A few last trembling breaths to steady himself, and he was still, lying there on the bed, face pressed to a damp pillow that tasted salty with his tears.

He rested for a while, tired from the emotional reaction that had become a physical exertion of the cruelest type. He was too worn out now to cry any longer, and all that was left was a hollow skeleton of pieced-together thoughts, scraps of fear and sadness and despair floating through him with no connection to anything. The dreaded apathy set in, misleadingly relieving at first when it calmed him and reminded him that he did not care about Duke Devlin, nor did he care about the other students, or anything else that had been bothering him. But he realized soon enough that he had ceased to care about everything, and the panicked thought that he should have cared about his life hit him too late.

No, Ryou Bakura chose to lie there uselessly, brokenly, with no better explanation than the excuse that Duke Devlin had been the catalyst in a process that lead to this despair, this sudden loss of will to live. He had long been awaiting this day, unconsciously, and the recent events had shaken him enough to loosen the final locks. No one had ever noticed him, ever paid him any mind except to mock him. Lack of love had finally taken its toll.

Sleep welcomed him into indiscriminate arms.

* * *

He woke, startled, to a sharp pain in his stomach. Fear shot through him as he struggled to identify the source – sickness? – and find a remedy. He managed to sit up weakly, clutching his middle as his insides seemed to twist a second time, causing him to wince and bite his lip. What was this? What was happening to him?

Hunger pangs. He realized it as he regained use of his brain after the sudden regaining of consciousness. He had not eaten since lunch the day before, meaning he had missed four meals by this time. Hunger pangs were setting in to ensure his continual survival and supply of energy. That was just as well, since Ryou wasn't positive he would have remembered to eat had the biological reaction not occurred.

The room came farther into focus, solid-black becoming blurred dark shapes that he could at least avoid knocking into. The pain continued, urging him to action, so he clutched the wall with one hand while the other attempted to soothe his stomach. Hunger. He needed food, and he didn't particularly care what it was at the moment. Hunger spurred him onwards despite the counter-productive pains.

He reached the kitchen and flicked the light switch, glancing around for something edible, anything. There! An orange. He grabbed it and sunk his teeth into it, gnawing through the outer peel without even washing it first. The juice flowed out and to his chagrin he wasn't able to keep up. Wasted juice spilled from his mouth as he devoured the fruit like some sort of desperate wild animal. It dried, sticky, at the sides of his mouth and down his chin as he finished the orange itself.

The orange wasn't enough. He needed more. Opening the refrigerator, he seized a yogurt, a packet of deli meat, a packet of cheese slices, mustard, and mayonnaise. The next minute was a flurry of movement that ended with the sloppy creation of a sandwich, which he bit into with such gusto that he wasn't certain he still had his sanity intact. He wanted to blame it on pure hunger, but it felt like more than that, like he was using it as an excuse to let out his raw insanity that was kept until tight supervision during the daytime.

The sandwich vanished and was followed by the yogurt, and then by a box of cookies, a can of soda, and a second yogurt. And still he was famished, and didn't stop to think that his body took longer than his mind to process just how much food he had consumed. He followed his remaining hunger and had a bowl of cereal and an apple before his stomach moved quickly from one protest to another sort.

_Everything _came back up and was swiftly washed away down the kitchen sink drain. He belatedly realized his mistake as he panted, doubled-over in front of the conveniently-placed sink. His stomach hadn't registered all the food because he had eaten so quickly. And when it had – well, when it had, it had not approved.

Ryou was back to square one, and frankly he didn't feel like eating any longer, not when his mouth tasted rancid and his body had just been further weakened. He washed out his mouth as best he could and trudged, bone-weary, back to bed. He didn't have enough strength left to cry now like he had before, so a few idle tears, accompanied only by slight trembling, was the extent of his second bout of crying.

Not wanting to think about what he would do the next morning – or what he would eat, seeing as he had consumed much of what was left in the house – Ryou drifted off into an uneasy sleep, to nightmares that were at least a step up from his lonely existence.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter Six**

Friday. He should have been happy, or at least relieved, but he was neither. Instead, he walked into his first class with the feeling that he had been run over by a large automobile, rained on, thrown in a clothes-dryer, and set down none-too-gently in front of the classroom door. He had risked a yogurt that morning, but had held back from eating anything more substantial, fearing his stomach's inevitable dissent. Logic told him to wait and ease his body back into food, rather than repeat last night's episode.

Unfortunately, this plan left him ridiculously hungry. His stomach gave pitiful grumbles every few minutes for about half an hour, gave up, and then promptly repeated the pattern an hour later. He managed to surreptitiously hold his stomach in and stifle some of the sound with his left arm while he wrote various notes and finished classwork that he really shouldn't have bothered to complete at this point.

Soon enough it was lunch-time, and Ryou anxiously headed for the cafeteria with the consolation that he could probably have a decent amount of food without throwing it up, seeing as his stomach had not yet rejected breakfast. He got in line and occupied himself with reading the little paper sign that told him today's featured choices were a) pizza, or b) mini hamburgers.

He held back a sigh and decided on the pizza. Hamburger meat sounded far too much for his delicate stomach at the moment, and though pizza wasn't much better, it was the lesser of the two evils. Unfortunately, his choice hardly mattered because the pizza was long gone by the time he reached the actual hurry-up-and-get-your-food part of the line, so he was forced to take the mini burgers after all.

Resigned to his fate, he took his lunch to a (not really) quiet table at the corner of the lunchroom, unoccupied and very obviously ignored by the general populace, who tended to crowd around certain tables anyway. Duke Devlin wasn't in this particular lunch period – for which Ryou profusely thanked all possible deities – but that didn't stop his fangirls/boys from congregating and expressing their displeasure at that fact. At least they seemed to be ignoring him like usual – or perhaps they just hadn't noticed his existence yet.

Halfway through his set of four mini burgers, Ryou's attention was seized by a well-manicured hand slapping down on the table, dangerously near to his precious food. He looked up from reflex and was met with the answer to his earlier, naïve assumption – fangirls. Heavily made-up faces contorted in varying degrees of irritation, a group of five stood around his table, effectively surrounding him.

Unsure of what to do, he tried to ignore them at first, averting his gaze and taking a small bite from the third mini burger. The air around him quickly became stifling as he awkwardly chewed and swallowed, and it wasn't solely because of the deadly fumes coming off the girls – perfume, he believed they called it. No, the reason for the stagnant air was much more subtle, a boiling of anger, wearing patience thin. They wouldn't wait for him much longer before they did whatever it was they intended to do. He set down his half-finished third mini burger solemnly, hoping to salvage it and the fourth mini burger should things turn nasty, but wisdom telling him not to hope for too much.

Taking the gesture as surrender, the head-fangirl pounced, narrowed chocolate eyes scorching right through him as she said, "So _you're _the lucky guy, hm?"

Ryou glanced around and saw that he truly was surrounded, and had no viable escape route. "I don't know what you're-"

"Oh, you _know_!" The fangirl in charge persisted, shooting him a glare that could have peeled paint of the walls, before reducing the walls themselves to ashes. "Don't you dare say that you don't know what we're talking about."

The girl used 'we' as if speaking for her entire posse, and by their nodding and similar expressions, this was perfectly acceptable. Ryou decided that silence was the best tactic for now, while he pondered the idea of stuffing the remaining half of the third mini burger in his mouth, seizing the fourth mini burger in one hand, and making a run for it. Meanwhile, the girl had probably been ranting about something of great importance, but he only caught the tail-end of it.

"… And so, you'd better stay far away from Duke Devlin, you little fag." The insult jolted him but she kept going as if she either didn't know or didn't care – guess. "We don't want your gayboy germs rubbing off on him, capiche?"

Ryou was stunned at their blatant attack, and all he could manage in return was, "Okay."

They were far from satisfied, taking his easy submission for a lie. The leader assumed a sickly-sweet smile, and sauntered over to his seat, plopping herself down on the empty one beside it. Utilizing her new strategic location, she yanked a lock of white hair to get his full attention, a completely unnecessary infliction of pain that he couldn't believe she could perform while her painted-on smile lingered.

"We want to be absolutely sure you won't bother us." She smiled, honeyed tone sickening him even further. "_Promise._"

"W-what?" He asked hesitantly, fear creeping into him as he realized that these fangirls could all-too-easily take their anger out on him in a purely physical way, and looked like they wouldn't mind doing so.

A squeak left him as she tugged his hair again, much harder this time. "_Swear that you won't go near Duke Devlin again._"

"I-I won't g-go… near Duke Devlin again." He whispered, ashamed that he was surrendering to these pathetic excuses for human beings. He should have just shoved through them and left the cafeteria at the beginning of the conflict, school rules or no school rules.

"Good!" She chirped, artificially cheerful now that her objective had been completed. She flounced away from his table, followed by her now-giggling posse, who apparently thought that bullying hapless students was an amusing pastime.

Ryou mournfully ate the second half of the third mini burger, but gave up rather than consume the fourth one. No point. If he was going to let himself be walked all over by a group of sluts, he didn't deserve to eat anyway. It was the most demoralizing experience he had ever been put through up to that point, though the events of the last couple days, altogether, were a close second.

Somehow, the fact that it had been _those_ girls bullying him was the worst hit so far. They were perfect little princesses who probably wouldn't have bothered with beating him up, lest they break a nail. And if he had tried to run, there was no way they would have pursued him – not in those high heels, they wouldn't have. So then, why had he sat there and blindly obeyed their ridiculous demands?

Perhaps because he was no princess. Just a lowly peasant, if even that.

* * *

English class. He walked in and tried not to squirm at the stares, just like the day before. Instead, he went purposefully to his desk, sat down, and prepared for the class at hand. They were going to watch a movie. It was Romeo and Juliet… what joy.

As soon as he received his video-worksheet, he wrote all the answers down without hesitation. They weren't even difficult questions. "What is Juliet's last name?" Capulet. "Romeo's last name?" Montague. Done. Well, yes, there were other questions, but they were generalized plot questions, so simply designed that anyone who had ever heard of the play could easily spit out the correct answer.

He supposed that it was intended to be easy, since it didn't sound like much of the class was actually paying the movie any attention. Well, that would change with Romeo and Juliet's scene later on – it was surprising the movie still kept a PG rating despite the partial nudity. And since there was a good deal of romantic activity shown… Ryou could only conclude that the class would be giggling and making a big deal of it.

And they did. Ryou rested his chin on his steepled hands and closed his eyes, annoyed and wishing for an escape from their immaturity. There was no point in watching a movie like this when he couldn't even hear the lines. And he certainly wasn't going to gape at Juliet's bared chest like the rest of the class, despite their persuasive laughter. Sigh. He really had to stop being so sarcastic, or he could end up like his other half.

When the movie was over, the teacher came up to the front of the room and attempted to hush the noisy students and bring them back to the topic at hand. "Class. CLASS. Pay attention."

As if they were going to listen to that. Well, some of them did, and the lessening in volume was good enough for the teacher's sinking standards, so she just frowned and went on with her teaching, even though more than half her students weren't listening.

"We will be studying Romeo and Juliet all next week, so be sure to have your copies of the play by Monday. Anyone without a book will be given a zero for participation." Ms. Valiant proclaimed sternly, dissatisfied expression daring anyone to protest. Ryou reminded himself in his planner that he still had to get the book.

She went on, in her bored, solemn tone. "It is very important that you get your own book, and not share with your neighbor, because we will be reading certain sections aloud."

This caused a disturbance as giggles and snickering broke loose, from girls and guys respectively.

"Are we acting out the balcony scene?" One girl called out, and her friends laughed delightedly.

"Let Duke and Bakura do it." Some guy snorted, and his humor was appreciated by a large portion of the class, who promptly burst out laughing. Ryou, ashamed, didn't risk a glance at Duke to see if he was one of the people laughing.

The teacher pretended she hadn't heard what must have been a strange suggestion to her oblivious ears. "No, we will not be acting out anythi – silence!" Her deep frown evidence of her irritation, she tried a few more times to hush the class, failed, and then retreated to her desk like usual.

Ryou sat there, the epitome of awkwardness, and hoped to be swallowed up by a deep, dark void. Everywhere around him people were laughing and glancing at him every now and then, not even trying to disguise what they were talking about. He occupied himself with writing random notes in his planner, trying to look like he had work to do.

He should have taken the hint when the laughter ceased and he felt that cruel spotlight descend upon him once more, but he ignored it, figuring that he was imagining the eyes all focused on him. After all, they were usually absorbed in their own dramas by this time in the class period, almost at the end of a long school day.

"What did you get for number eight?" An impossibly-sultry voice inquired, sparing no shame as its owner halted beside Ryou's desk and leaned over his shoulder as if to check his answers.

Ryou knew better. Devlin's last worksheet had been completely correct, and if it was anything to go by, this one was as well. It was just an excuse to go over and annoy him. And that was something he really did not want to deal with at the moment.

"Ha! Do you see him putting the moves on him like that?" A boy's voice rang out, louder than intended… perhaps.

More giggling. More laughing and pointing. More insults and disgust at his expense. And all because Duke Devlin thought it was funny to tease someone who had never done anything to anyone, a person formerly invisible. It figured – when he finally got used to his invisibility, it was taken away from him and replaced with something far worse: the spotlight.

He couldn't take it any longer. And he wouldn't.

Ryou Bakura stood up, worksheet in hand. He brushed past Devlin without so much as a first glance, nevermind a second one, and strode up to the teacher, who blinked at him in surprise as he thrust the completed worksheet at her.

"Here's my worksheet." He said politely, though inside he was fuming, finally allowing himself the righteous anger that should have defended him from the start. "May I have a pass to use the restroom?"

The teacher gave him his bathroom pass, and Ryou walked out of the room, fury intact. He headed for the restroom anyway, since he had nowhere in particular to go, and once there he leaned against the tiled wall, letting out a sigh of relief.

Maybe, if he was lucky, they wouldn't bother him anymore. If he was lucky.

Footsteps!

He panicked for a moment but then told himself to relax, since it wasn't like the teacher had sent someone else out to the restroom. After all, it was a rule for there to be only one student heading to the restroom at a time – it discouraged rendezvous and violent conflicts alike.

Just the same, though, Ryou was curious enough to cast a quick glance in the direction of the entrance… Just in time to see a deadly-familiar face.

"Wait, don't-" Duke's hand shot out to catch Ryou's wrist as he tried to flee the restroom-turned-prison-cell.

"L-let go!" Ryou demanded, trying to squirm out of the other's grasp and only succeeding in requiring Duke to exert more force, and applying his other hand to the task of capturing his other wrist.

"Calm down!" Duke exclaimed abruptly, in a frustrated tone Ryou hadn't heard him use before. "I'm not going to hurt you."

That had to be most clichéd line in existence, and it didn't even make sense in this case. The forceful grip on his wrists was already hurting him. And that wasn't counting the emotional hurt that he had suffered as a result of the past taunting. This was just unfair! Hadn't he left the classroom to get away from this guy in the first place?

But for some reason, Ryou did just as instructed, and calmed down. He took deep breaths and his panicked heartbeats began to slow and even out. Slowly, he let his eyes drift upwards until they met Duke's, where they stayed of their own accord. It was much too easy to let himself fall into the vivid green depths that gazed directly into his own.

"Now, will you listen to me?" Cliché again, but Duke transcended all possible sappiness somehow, seeming almost repentant – though Ryou told himself he wouldn't believe it.

Ryou nodded, as if under his spell again, relaxing despite the pressure that lingered on his wrists, reminding him that Duke wasn't hesitant to use force to keep him here indefinitely, no matter his protests. The thread of danger lurked beneath the surface, but Ryou presently set it aside in the desperate, illogical hope that maybe, just maybe, there was an explanation for everything that had happened.

"I'm sorry for everything."

What? Duke Devlin was… apologizing? To him? But… why? Wasn't there some sort of law forbidding these kinds of things from happening? There should have been, because it was just not _right_, because Duke should have been either mocking him or seducing him at present, and he doing neither, and none of this made any _sense_, and –

"Are you all right?"

Completely frozen by the human expression of Duke's face, Ryou could only stare, his mouth falling open slightly at the words he wasn't sure he had just heard. It was bad enough witnessing an apology from the most aloof, narcissistic, arrogant guy in the school – with the possible exception of Seto Kaiba – but if that wasn't enough, he was now asking if Ryou was _all right_…?

Ryou didn't sense that he was being lied to, but there couldn't be another logical explanation, so he was suddenly on-guard again, stunned expression melting into seriousness. "What are you trying to do?"

Duke seemed thrown by the question, as if all his biting wit and usual pride had been thrown out the window a few minutes ago. His grip loosened until it was more like they were simply holding hands – though it was anything but a 'simple' action – as he looked at Ryou with guilty eyes and said, "I didn't know it bothered you, you know… But after you-"

"You didn't… think it would… bother me?" Ryou whispered, world turning upside down in a number of ways. He wasn't really seeing anything at all while he spoke, his vision taking less priority compared to his mental processes.

As if sensing that he had said something he should not have – and wasn't that all too obvious? – Duke released Ryou's wrists and hastily attempted to explain further. "It was just a joke, and I didn't think anyone would take it that seri – hey, wait!"

Ryou had turned and left the restroom in a flash of brilliant white hair, head down as he numbly watched the floor pass under his shoes. His face felt wet. It didn't matter. No one would see it.

It was raining when he walked home, anyway. By the time he stood under a scorching hot shower, he didn't even care that he had left his backpack in English.

* * *

**I'm referring to the 1968 version of Romeo and Juliet, in case anyone was wondering. Quite a good movie, actually.**


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter Seven**

By the next morning, Ryou had remembered just how much he cared about his backpack. After all, going to school without it was going to feel really strange, and all his homework was in it, and his textbooks, too. Would people notice? Would they turn to their friends and say, "Haha, look, that kid forgot his backpack – what an idiot!" Or maybe no one would notice, and he'd just get zeros on a few worksheets, and everything would okay.

But he wasn't going to bet on that. As luck went, Ryou's was pretty bad – need he even mention the Millennium Ring that once plagued him? Well, not that it was the Ring itself, really… Still, his luck had been terrible even after he was freed of the evil spirit, so he figured it was just part of him, like his "weird" white hair or his deep-brown eyes. He had acknowledged long ago that he was some kind of walking disaster, and he was going to stick with that explanation.

He sighed as he tied his shoes, and glanced around to find, surprise, no backpack. Oh yes, that was because he had left it at school. Now that he remembered – again – it was a simple but painful process of walking out the door without the weight on his back.

Odd – he would have thought that taking the load off his back would have improved his mood. Unfortunately, the physical weight that no longer plagued his shoulders was made up for by the increased emotional strain floating over his head, dragging him down though he didn't carry it the same way he did his backpack.

Strange tangent over with, Ryou sighed again and tried to put the backpack out of his mind as he walked. Unfortunately, that made room for the thoughts he _really _didn't want to waste time on.

"_I didn't know it would bother you…"_

He shook his head to clear it of that which had sounded, at first, so lucid and believable that he had nearly lost himself to the lies. If Duke hadn't slipped up and said something as ridiculous as that, he might have succeeded. Succeeded… at what?

Ryou blinked and stumbled on his next step, catching himself in time to recover more-or-less gracefully but still affected by the foreign thought.

_What are you trying to do?_

That's right… he had asked that the day before, sensing the dissonance between his enemy's words and actions. And he was still asking it – to himself, granted, and getting nowhere with it. But he was asking, begging to know the answer to such a simple question. Just what did Duke Devlin want with him, a ghost of a boy with a complete lack of redeeming qualities – save, perhaps, his studious nature, which was cancelled out by his pathetically bad luck – and, recently, a lack of friends to top it all off? Nothing. He couldn't possibly want anything.

* * *

**Question:** Why is Duke Devlin, Dungeon Dice Monsters creator and sex god, suddenly paying attention to lowly student Ryou Bakura?

a) The attention is a cruel joke to tease the hapless Ryou Bakura until he is even more destroyed than before, and this time there are people watching him.

b) The attention is the result of a dare that Duke Devlin was forced to take at some point during a wild party.

c) The attention is a ruse that underscores a much larger, more obscure plan involving world domination.

d) All of the above.

What answer would _you _choose? Exactly.

* * *

English class. As if he wanted to face that classroom again, its sniggering inhabitants, and the man straight from his nightmares, or close enough. He would have rather walked on hot lava, or fallen into a pit of snakes, or… well, his point was obvious. But despite his misgivings – no, that wasn't the word, more like terror – there he was, walking past that familiar threshold and into the no man's land.

He walked very quickly to his seat, hyper-conscious of all the gazes latched onto his figure, like he had become a celebrity overnight. The strange thing was that he felt like he was getting used to it. The pattern was simple: rush to desk, take out class materials – his backpack was, in fact, still there – and pretend everyone but the teacher is invisible. Too easy but for the voices in his head.

No, not the spirit of the Ring. The voices filling his mind with worthless comments whenever they got the chance, spewing insults and put-downs for every occasion, including important tests. But though Ryou was sharp enough to ignore their incorrect test answers, he somehow absorbed the other strikes without bothering to consider their sources.

_It's a cruel cycle, you know – you've got this pathetic image of yourself, so you think all those pathetic thoughts, and then you get the bad image again, and the thoughts, and the image – well, you get the picture._

Ironic, how his evil side's words came back to him now, with a faint memory of the sneer and narrowed eyes that went with it. Yami Bakura had left him with few fond recollections, if that cynical self-help speech even counted as a pleasant memory. But whatever it was, it seemed to hold more truth than Ryou had given it credit for originally.

Cruel cycle, indeed.

Something small and hard bounced off his shoulder and he glanced around but saw no guilty faces in the sea of laughing students nearest him. He looked down and saw a piece of someone's eraser. How utterly dumb, to throw something like that at him.

It was a little bit like what he did to himself, wasn't it? Every so often, _no one likes you _would flit through his mind gleefully, and he'd wince and bear it, never questioning the perpetrator. A few minutes later, _what are you still here for? _would hit his chest like a firm fist, followed by the no-less-effective right hook of _NOTHING_. It was every bit as obvious to him as the eraser hurled at him by an immature classmate, but so much worse, more underhanded, and ten times as deadly. His own poison, super-effective.

So when he shrugged off the irritation at whoever had thrown the thing in the first place, he had the sinking feeling that he was surrendering his strength again, servile in the face of the punishment he thought he deserved. But at least he had stood up to… to his fears… yesterday. He hadn't stayed there, to be bent into whatever shape was most amusing to the nightmare and his worshippers. His impulsive decision to run had saved him from that fate.

Halfway through the class, with Ms. Valiant attempting to teach through a PowerPoint presentation that doubled as their notes, Ryou was distracted as another projectile landed in his lap and slid to the floor by his feet. He was annoyed enough by the second strike that he actually picked the small object up off the ground to examine it – partly because he felt like throwing it back at its owner, partly because some small part of him was curious at what it was this time.

It was… a die. Like the one on Duke's earring, only it had what looked like a tiny square of paper taped onto one side of it. What in the world…?

Ryou gingerly removed the tape and began to pick at the square of paper until he found what he had suspected, a small fold from which he opened a still-small scrap of paper with an elegantly-scrawled message.

_I want to talk to you. Wait for me in the hallway – you know which one._

_If you don't show, I'll assume you don't need an explanation._

Ryou stared at the paper for an unnecessary length of time, and then glanced at the clock high on the wall. Forty minutes to decide his course of action. If he went, he would apparently be given a proper explanation of things, most likely with words more honeyed than last time. If he left, the implication was that his enemy would simply give up – at least, that was what the note seemed to indicate – and never take any notice of him again.

It was the predictable point at which he would have to choose. Would he face his fears, though he could already imagine the honeyed words and illogical reasoning that Duke would not hesitate to bestow upon him…? Or would he slink back home, slightly worse for wear, but with the knowledge that the storm had passed, and he would never again be bothered by this particular threat?

His answer should have been immediate and decisive. Instead, it took all his willpower to stop him from abandoning his seat and getting as far from the school as he possibly could – perhaps this time _with _his backpack. But for some reason, he could not so blindly strike out the first option, which tempted him with the answer to satisfy his curiosity, soothe his confusion, and perhaps even heal the pain from the last few days.

But what he didn't know was that the choice wasn't up to him. When fifteen minutes remained until the final bell, Ryou Bakura slumped onto his desk uncharacteristically, causing only a few mutters and a handful of giggles at first, but then, when someone went to shake his limp body and received no reaction… a much larger impact.

* * *


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter Eight**

"Nnngh…" Ryou stirred, eyes drifting open to a bland white ceiling. He sat up cautiously, feeling completely disoriented even before he saw that he was in a hospital bed. His hands grasped white sheets, tense with apprehension as he scanned the room and recognized it as the nurse's room at his school. Why was he…?

Tapping little footsteps echoed before the school nurse stepped behind the privacy curtain and into Ryou's enclosed, make-shift room. "How are you feeling?"

The kindness in her tone soothed him somewhat, enough that he was able to reply quietly, "Not terrible. Why am I… here?"

She gave him a sympathetic smile, taking in his slender form, his hesitance. "You fainted towards the end of fourth period. One of your classmates brought you here, and you have been resting for a good half-hour."

One of his classmates? Who had the teacher threatened into carrying him to the nurse's office? Unless… no, that was ridiculous, it couldn't be… not him! He refused to even contemplate such a concept – the most popular guy in the school carrying his limp form like he was holding a princess – for fear of something he couldn't label.

Realizing that the present silence had been brought on by his absent mind, Ryou pretended he hadn't drifted off and feigned sudden alertness. "Am I free to go?"

The nurse contemplated him with her eyes, pity blatant in her expression. "Yes, but before you leave I need to speak with you about the cause of your faintness."

Ryou's heart sank suddenly into his stomach, which protested vehemently, reminding its owner of his unforgivable neglect to feed his already-fragile body. "O-oh?"

She fixed him with a half-stern, half-concerned look as she flipped to the next page of her medical notes. "Do you eat three regular meals each day?"

"Well, yes." Ryou's eyes settled on the pristine white sheets abashedly. "Usually."

"It would be in your best interest to tell the complete truth," The nurse reminded him gently. "That way, it will be much easier to figure out how to remedy your situation."

"Right." He felt oddly nervous, sharing the details of his life with some woman he had never met, but she was only trying to help him, and this was a certified nurse, after all. "W-well, I have had trouble… remembering to eat lately."

"Would you mind telling me the specifics?" She asked, all precision now. "In the last three days, how many full meals have you eaten?"

Ryou made a quiet noise of hesitancy, calculating, before he added everything up. "Two. Three if you count today's school lunch… but I couldn't eat all of it."

The worry alighting in her eyes confirmed his feeling that this answer was as bad as it sounded aloud. Two meals in three days? That was bordering on starvation, especially if the pattern had continued much longer. Which it still could, given the chance.

Obviously, the nurse did not want to give starvation a chance to break him down further. "All right. I think it is best that you start regulating your eating habits. Try to get in three full meals each day, no matter the circumstances."

She paused, as if she was going to add something else to her advice, but her eyes flickered up to read his troubled expression and she left off there, leaving him to nod and smile like he would have no problem at all remembering to eat.

After all, why should he? Maybe that was what she wanted to ask: why aren't you eating? But tact told her not to, because she had probably already deduced that the answer would be none of her business, though it certainly was affecting his health. Some things had to be left unsaid, even in her profession. She was a nurse, not a therapist.

"Well then, you may leave whenever you're ready." She gave him a nod of dismissal and a smile of tentative encouragement, and left.

Ryou slid off the bed cautiously and, feeling steady enough on his feet, glanced around for his backpack. There! He hefted it onto one shoulder and tried his best to look healthy as he ducked out of the curtained area and made for the door leading out of the nurse's office.

He heaved a sigh of relief after he had quietly shut the door to the medical room, and turned around with the intention of exiting the school via the nearby stairway. A jolt of recognition, however, coursed through him as he recalled that this was the same hallway. The hallway Devlin had said to meet him in after school.

No, that was a dumb idea. School had long since ended, and it wasn't like he had been serious about the note anyway. And Ryou hadn't even decided to go talk to him, anyway. In fact, he had been about to dismiss it as the worst possible course… of… action…

… Oh, no.

Duke didn't even say anything this time, just followed him with his eyes. He was leaning against the wall beside the stairway, exactly like the first time. No! He couldn't think like that, it was almost… almost like he was recalling that memory fondly, like the last few days hadn't _happened_!

It had to be a trap, but he couldn't figure out just what the catch _was_. Devlin seemed interested in him, but why? What was the key to unlocking the secret motivation behind this whole mess?

Ryou needed to know. His parched curiosity, not so much curiosity anymore but longing for some semblance of sense in his life, demanded the right to know his place. Just like he had stood up the day before and refused to be taunted any longer, he had to now muster his courage and do the impossible.

He had to confront Duke Devlin. _He_, the fluffy-haired, meek-voiced Ryou Bakura, had to face his fears _now_, or else spend the next few months, or longer, in a catastrophically unknown status that would haunt his every step.

This inner pep talk was the only thing that made it possible for Ryou to keep walking until he was a good distance from his fears, but not far enough away that it was not obvious that he meant to speak to him.

"You're here." Ryou acknowledged quietly, a hint of surprise slipping into his voice.

"I'd say it's more surprising that _you're_ here." Duke remarked casually, but he let the half-formed smirk slide from his face as he pushed off the wall to stand a comfortable distance from Ryou.

Ryou looked down at his shoes, feeling the weight of awkwardness pressing down on him. His increasingly frightened heartbeats echoed in his mind as he waited for some miraculous idea to strike him, or else for Duke to take the initiative and start explaining things on his own. He suddenly felt that this had been wrong from the outset… shouldn't he have gone home, to get food? What would he do if he fainted again? Silly, unnecessary questions, but they were effective enough that he declined to speak for the time being, sorting out his inner strife.

"Why did you pass out back there?"

Ryou's gaze snapped back up and he took in Duke's questioning expression with embarrassment. "I-I… I wasn't feeling well, and…"

"And?" The smooth voice pressured gently, with just enough force to persuade him to continue.

"And I… haven't been eating." Ryou finished despite his misgivings, eyes contemplating his shoes once more. Perhaps if he stared at the ground long enough, he could melt a hole in the tiled floor and drop through, into an endless, welcoming abyss.

"What?" The alarmed reaction wasn't something he had expected from someone as… well, from Duke. But it was there, and it was made more obvious by the cautious footsteps that brought his enemy closer.

"Hey… what's up with that?" A tentative hand reach out to rest on his shoulder, accompanying the soft inquiry.

Once again Ryou's attention was garnered far too easily, and he jumped a little at the contact. When his eyes drifted to meet the gorgeous green ones close to his, his stomach gave an odd reaction, like it was twisting and turning and-

A humiliating rumble came from his stomach, and Ryou instinctively clutched his middle, feeling his face heat at the untimely noise. Untimely because in another few moments he might have brushed off the topic of his health and succeeded in obtaining the explanation he so yearned for.

Duke's response to the interruption was immediate and incredulous. "You still haven't eaten?"

"N-no… I was just going home." Ryou admitted ashamedly, still holding his middle, afraid it was going to betray him again, which it seemed liable to do considering how vastly empty it was.

A hand seized his, and the firm grip commanded him to follow as Duke headed down the stairway with a malnourished boy in tow. Duke wasn't looking at him, so focused on his new goal – whatever that was – that he had donned an expression of seriousness that was out-of-place and yet still attractive on him as everything tended to be.

"W-what are you-"

"I'm getting you food."

And that was how the destined explanation was overshadowed and postponed by no fault of Duke Devlin's.


	9. Chapter 9

To curious readers: the 'true events' might be explained in later chapters… depending on what direction this story goes in, and how closely it echoes said 'true events.' ^_~

Ooooh, I'm so ambiguously camp!

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**Chapter Nine**

"All right, just tell me what you want."

Duke glanced over at him so casually, as if he drove people around in his ultra-sporty car and bought them fast-food all the time. Actually, considering the size of his fanbase, he probably did. And yet, the extent of the relaxation was still surprising. I mean, shouldn't he have been at least a little awkward? Not _completely _sure of himself?

Ryou shook himself from his reverie long enough to mutely point to a semi-healthy looking chicken sandwich. He didn't have the time to think of words that made sense, so he just kept quiet as Duke moved up to the drive-thru window and took the food from a very enthusiastic female employee.

"Here." Duke thrust the sandwich at him as he drove out of the place, sparing him a quick smile, or something close to it. "Hurry up and get some food in that body."

Ryou wasted no time in unwrapping the chicken sandwich and devouring it, suddenly feeling like his stomach could easily take four more sandwiches of the same kind. He'd never admit that, though, especially after what had happened when he'd been of this mindset before. He vaguely recalled vomiting into the kitchen sink and shuddered.

"What, you don't like it?" Duke's eyes flashed over to his as he quite purposefully sped through a yellow light. "We can go ba-"

"N-no, it's okay! It's nothing." Ryou amended hastily, seeing as Duke had just cut off a large truck and hadn't seemed to notice.

"You sure?" Another yellow light vanquished by the infamous driving skills of Duke Devlin.

Ryou nodded quickly, half-eaten sandwich temporarily forgotten as he worriedly watched the road. Speaking of roads… where exactly were they going? He searched the scenery flying by outside the vehicle, and almost recognized the area, but he still couldn't guess what their destination was, unless – no, he couldn't! That would be just-

"Look, if the sandwich is that bad, I can just make you something when we get to the house, okay?" Token smirk, casual yank on the steering wheel to swerve past an obstacle – er, other car.

Ryou shook his head because he was experiencing extreme cognitive dissonance, and also possibly as a reply to Duke's semi-question. Apparently, Duke was taking him home. To _his _house. What was he going to do? Well, personally he didn't know what Duke would do since lately he'd been something of a wildcard… but Ryou in particular wasn't sure how to deal with this situation. Maybe he just had to pretend until he managed to get home? If Duke continued acting like nothing had happened, he could go along with that, at least for a little while…

"All right, all right." Duke sighed a little melodramatically as the vehicle entered a residential area. "But I have food at my place, so if you're still hungry, you just say the word."

Ryou nodded and stuffed a good deal of the sandwich into his mouth as a plausible excuse for not talking.

* * *

"Hey, don't be scared, it's just a house!" Duke grinned as they walked to the front door – okay, _doors_ – of one of the largest houses Ryou had seen in person. Apparently, Dungeon Dice Monsters was doing pretty well, despite being a carbon-copy of Duel Monsters.

"I'm not scared…" Ryou defended himself under his breath. When he looked up, he caught a momentary expression of concern on the multimillionaire's face before it was hastily replaced with the same smile as before. Strange…

"Well, come on!" Duke made a vague gesture recognizable as 'follow me' and opened one of the large doors to what might have been called a small mansion.

Ryou stood woodenly at the entrance, astonished at the sight presented to him. All the furniture was sleek, modern, some kind of silver metal paired with black leather, and the color scheme seemed to be black, silver, and red. It was clearly put together for shock value, not for the weak of taste. Whoever had designed this hadn't had much fondness for subtlety.

"Don't just stand there!" Duke laughed and reached behind him to close the door, and then took his hand.

His hand interlaced with Ryou's boldly and without warning, an intimate touch that was somehow much more than 'holding hands.' When Ryou still didn't move following the gentle tug from the hand on his, Duke glanced back over his shoulder and gave him a look of pure innocence, and perhaps a tinge of confusion for added effect.

Ryou's eyes drifted hesitantly to their entwined fingers, but as they did so he was struck by a sudden feeling of intimidation, as if the air between them had electrified with an uncertain, dangerous substance. Ryou kept himself, somehow, from looking up, where their eyes would surely meet, and by then it would be too late. Heart pounding, Ryou stepped cautiously towards his fear, surrendering to the slight pull on Duke's hand on his. His complacency seemed to have bested the strange, heavy air for the time being, so he let himself be pulled along, towards the stylish room he had marveled over.

He looked up and carefully, firmly directed his eyes around the room, away from Duke and distracting himself from the warmth of his hand. He gave a quiet exclamation of adequate praise for the lavish surroundings, and found himself pulled into the next room.

The kitchen was spotless and shining, almost overbearing in the amount of silver metal that graced the chairs, table, appliances, and counters. There was a bar-like setup on one side of the large room, and the stools had leather seats that alternated in black and red.

"Still hungry?" Duke asked abruptly, and though Ryou couldn't see his face, he was sure he was grinning.

"No, I'm fine." Ryou countered hastily, pretending that he was enthralled with the kitchen – not that he wasn't – to give him more time to not look at Duke. This was beginning to get out of hand, wasn't it? He had just wanted a simple explanation for the events of the past few days, but instead he had let himself be dragged around for food – a necessary evil at the time – and then, of all places, to Devlin's _house_. This was going somewhere fast. And Ryou didn't know how to stop it.

"You okay?" Casually posed question, deeper meaning lurking behind it. This Ryou could tell very easily by the carefully-constructed tone, evident even in those two meager words.

Ryou sensed that Duke had noticed that he wasn't looking at him, so he braced himself for the worst and allowed himself to look up at his fears, at those gorgeous green eyes filled with fascination of the basest kind. That was what Ryou saw in his eyes.

"You don't look so good. You need to sit down?" Duke's ability to make a concerned suggestion have an effect similar to a dirty pick-up line whispered in one's ear was remarkable. It was proven by Ryou's uncontrollable flush and his sudden need to look away.

Was this a trap? Would sitting down on a couch next to Duke Devlin lead to unspeakable horrors? Or was this the preferable course of action, seeing as feigning faintness could lessen Duke's field of opportunity? After all, people don't usually attempt to seduce those who are near-unconscious. At least, that was what Ryou surmised…

Taking the chance, Ryou nodded uncertainly, which was especially easy to do because he _was _uncertain. "Y-yes. That would be nice."

The warm hand slipped from his.

Victory?

But for the sense of that loss of warmth.


	10. Chapter 10

Thanks for all the positive reviews, everyone! I'm honestly surprised that anyone noticed this, since Duke/Ryou seems to be a pretty… well… neglected pairing. So thanks again for reading, and I hope you enjoy this chapter!

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**Chapter Ten**

Ryou's heart was beating uncomfortably fast as he sank into the black leather couch, noticing the exact distance between them when Duke followed suit. Maybe a hand's width separated their legs, a meager separation at best, and one he did not trust. He longed for a sheet of Plexiglas between them instead of the transparent, easily-breached space of air.

It would have been easier if it was only Duke he was afraid of, if his fear was of simple, unwanted sexual attention. If only he had no interest in the man sitting next to him, and his problem was one of his own safety, this situation would have been solved by his hasty exit and, at the most, a few phone calls and a restraining order.

The problem, as Ryou was just now rediscovering, was his own. Because Ryou's concern wasn't solely of getting away from Duke Devlin, however much he tried to convince himself. That was only part of the larger picture, in which he was struggling against his own attraction to the enigmatic man who had already affected him so much by so little of his own doings. The problem, he realized with a dawning horror, was that he didn't _want _Duke to leave him alone.

"You don't look so good," Duke muttered, leaning closer only slightly, but it was enough that Ryou noticed and felt a coldness wash through him of fear of his own feelings.

"I-I'm fine." Ryou winced inwardly at how helpless he sounded, as if he was playing the weak, delicate type purposefully. "I would like to rest for a moment."

"All right." Duke replied amiably, though his doubt showed clearly as Ryou felt eyes on his as he fixed a solemn gaze at his knees. And the eyes refused to move, even after a few long moments had passed.

The air became gradually stifling, in the same way it had when Duke had taken his hand. It carried with it a warning of sorts, this kind of air, that made his head swim and his body react with panicked heartbeats and the need to move, even if it was just an involuntary twitch of his hand. It was the kind of foreboding air that foretold what was to happen, and what kind of happening it was to be. He shrank in on himself a little, allowing his body to protect itself from the advance he sensed would happen soon. Eyes still perusing the blue of his school uniform, Ryou was startled as he felt a hand rest lightly on his shoulder.

He knew better than to turn his head and lock gazes with this person he half-despised, half-worshipped, but then Ryou was never known for making the most sensible choices. He found his eyes going to Duke's blazing green ones, the warm touch on his shoulder coupled with the look on Duke's face bringing a blush to his face, despite there being so much he should have said in protest to the movement that hung in the air between them, so tense and frightened that not crossing it brought even more terror than the hinted-at deed itself.

"You haven't asked me about the note yet." Duke's voice, referring to the explanation he owed Ryou, the explanation that hadn't sank to the back of Ryou's mind yet had been obscured in shadow since his occupation with feeding his physical hunger.

He had to respond somehow, and the only way was to return to staring at his knees and let whatever came out of his mouth reach the air. "I… everything is so _confused_."

The hand squeezed his shoulder comfortingly. He looked up. A conflicted expression confronted him, elegant eyebrows knit together with what could have been frustration, eyes that searched his for some semblance of meaning, a mouth half-open with a smooth reply prepared, but not yet cleared for exit. For once, Duke's beauty was lost on him as he was hit by the full force of another's twisted, bewildered emotions.

"Then let's talk." Duke had managed to restrain himself from something, because his expression had been watered down to a vague sort of seriousness, and the hand that had tightened on his shoulder slipped off and retreated to his side.

"Talk?" Ryou wanted to turn around and face away from the rift between them, just a moment ago a desired thing that had now turned cold and unwanted. He dared not begin the long walk through the past week's events, and so he hesitated, letting the ball fall from his incapable hands to roll across the gap between them. If he was lucky, Duke would pick it up without comment for his cowardice.

"I'm not sure what to say, so I'm just going to ask you to listen to me no matter what I sound like." Duke leaned closer, towards him, as if preparing to tell him a secret that couldn't reach the ears of another.

All Ryou noted was their proximity and how hot his face was becoming. He nodded blankly, in an absent-minded consent to the other's request. How was he supposed to listen when all he could hear were his heartbeats pounding at his ears? His attention was elsewhere, drawn down to a well-shaped mouth as a tongue slid nervously over lips that had once kissed him. The action riveted him, as if a priceless diamond hung on a chain before his eyes, captivating.

"Ryou…"

What? No, that tone was so – this wasn't what he had… Why was he licking his lip again like that and… Was he getting c-closer? No, impo-

That flawless face grew large in his vision before his eyes shut instinctively as soft lips pressed to his. Hands on either side of his face guided their mouths together and held them there as Duke kissed him for the second time. He felt himself begin to tremble when the other's mouth pressed harder on his, and he felt his resolve weakening with the tongue that languidly snaked into his mouth, taking its time to tease him. A sharp intake of breath accompanied the stroking of that tongue against his, and he was only vaguely aware of his need for air, that constant reminder to breathe despite his mouth's occupation.

He felt his face heat to a higher degree than before, stimulated by the tongue caressing his, dominating his mouth easily and causing his little gasps. A warm body shifted, pressed to him now as their mouths melded together once more, and he surrendered completely.

The tongue withdrew but gave him no respite as teeth caught his own tongue skillfully, from where it had languished in the other's mouth. Ryou let out a strangled gasp as the mouth closed over his tongue and began to suck on it slowly.

He thought he might die from overstimulation. Time slowed as the red on his face sped up, and he grasped at the shirt he could not see because his eyes were squeezed shut in ignorant bliss. The mouth released his tongue but he needed more, mouth falling open expectantly as he drifted towards the source of pleasure, waiting, waiting.

Nothing happened for a long moment, and he nearly came back to reality as his eyes opened and he recalled that long-forgotten sense called sight. An unbroken strand of saliva breached the insignificant distance between their mouths, and led his gaze to Duke Devlin's stunned expression. Such a monument of a moment, but the shock of seeing the other unsettled faded as the surprise did, and the sex god's heavy-lidded, satisfied smile returned.

The saliva broke sometime, though Ryou never saw exactly when.

"Do you understand now?" Duke's tongue darted out and skimmed his bottom lip again, with such a natural appearance that it could have been habit.

Ryou's mind connected the kiss with understanding, and misunderstanding with getting kissed. A quick decision produced the result that he did not want to understand, because understanding seemed to be the purpose of kissing, and if he refused to understand, he would be shown the same treatment as before.

He shook his head, bewildered on more than one level.

"Ryou," Gorgeous green eyes looked directly into his, into the depths of his mind as those… those _lips _moved hypnotically, and he barely caught the words. "I want you."

So close already… that mouth beckoned him, and Duke knew it, judging by the smirk that played out across his lips. Was there anything to say to that confession? Ryou had already forgotten by the time Duke leaned in again, this time stopping before their mouths connected.

"Did you like that explanation?"


End file.
